


Read My Lips

by DarthSuki



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Gender-neutral Reader, Love Confessions, M/M, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-18 20:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16524455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki
Summary: You are a teacher's assistant at Beacon Academy, having graduated several years ago and trying to make a place for yourself in the world. Fate is a funny thing, bringing you back to the place where you felt so at-home. But it certainly doesn't come without it's little issues--one of them being a long-avoided crush you held on Ozpin since your last year at Beacon. It would seem that your years away from the academy didn't chase away that infatuation; if anything, it's even worse.





	Read My Lips

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a request on my RWBY writing blog. If you would like to submit a request or check out my other related work, [go check it out here!](https://rwbywritings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, if people are interested in a second part enough for this (as the request was originally a first kiss and/or some first sexy times) I might very well be convinced to write it ;3c

His lips felt warm and soft against your own.

He moved slowly, carefully, as if afraid that anything could frighten you into breaking the kiss. His hands were at your waist, you could feel his hair tickling your face; you could have sworn that the two of you were so close and so quiet that you could even hear his quick, thumping heartbeat (but it may have just been the rush of your own in the moment).

It was a wonderful moment, but one that hardly lasted long enough–

Not when the sound of your alarm woke you abruptly from sleep.

It took a few moments for your bearings to arrange themselves correctly, memories falling back into place of the who, where and how of things. The world had settled back into normalcy by the time you slapped your hand over your scroll to shut off the alarm.

Though groggy, you managed to get out of bed and settle onto your feet. With a lingering thought towards your dream (the warmth against your lips) you began to ready yourself for the day’s events.

* * *

The weather was cold and a little deary–Fall and Winter weren’t playing well with one another, leaving the air chilled, but not nearly enough for snow. The rain came down softly, more like a heavy mist, blanketing the campus and being a nuisance for the students who didn’t think to prepare for the weather.

Umbrella in hand, you slowly moved across the campus, the ambling buildings and unmarked crossways. Even now, it seemed a surprise that you knew your way around so well; what had once been little more than a maze was now an extension of home.

Beacon Academy was truly an intriguing place to work; as a teacher’s assistant, you were able to see things in a different perspective, having a few years of an active career of hunts beneath your belt. You were able to see where all of the lessons were put to use, how the caffeine-fueled rants of Oobleck or outrageous stories of Port were somewhat useful in your endeavors after graduation.

It was nice to come back to a place you had called home for a few years of your formative years–particularly now that you were an equal and not a student.

Your schedule was regular; you were with Prof. Oobleck in the early morning, Prof. Port late morning, had some time to yourself around lunch. You could spent the few hours doing just about anything–it was one of the things you enjoyed most about your job. The freedom to specialize your already-existing skills, to research just about anything that caught your fancy.

It was…freeing, honestly. Beacon had become more of your home than it had been when you were a student.

One hour gently blurred into the next, and half the day had gone by before you knew it. Though you had been directed every which way to help out your assigned classes of responsibility, there was a lingering feeling of  _something_  that simmered within you. Something you couldn’t place, but it always slipped back into flickering images from your dream, over and over again.

It was hard to ignore and downright  _frustrating_. The feeling of soft lips, gentle hands and a body against yours, all in the overwhelming moment of what must have been the most romantic kiss you ever felt–

–and it was a dream, dammit.

It wouldn’t make it any easier to work with Ozpin. Since Prof. Goodwitch was taking care of personal business, you were filling in for her some of her administrative duties with the headmaster. It wasn’t as if the duties were anything difficult–mostly secretarial work, really, filing away paperwork and attending a few faculty meetings to take notes when required.

No, the most difficult thing wasn’t the job, but the man himself. Ozpin had long been somewhat of a crush for you–it had started out as something silly in your last year of academics, a little fancy that you were sure would fly away the moment you stepped into a career of your own. But as fate would play with your heart, it pulled you right back to Beacon–

And the feelings were still there. If anything, what had once been silly infatuation had turned into deep admiration, a toying series of thoughts of ‘what-if’ and ‘how-so’ that made your cheeks feel hot if he so much as smiled at you for a job well done.

Damn it all.

* * *

Your fingertips barely touched the surface of the broad wooden doors when they opened, seemingly by command. Confusion filtered through your face until you saw Ozpin, hand on the doorknob and eyes falling to you. He smiled (warmth filled your cheeks) and welcomed you into his office with a gesture of his other hand.

“And here I thought you were going to miss out on being ten minutes early,” He said with a chuckle. “I think you’ll be happy to know there’s little for you today.”

You stepped inside his office, trying not to glance back at the man as he closed the door behind you (a gentleman, truly). He walked around you and back to his desk, still smiling all the while as you instinctively started to search about the room for piles of papers, folders or books to start sorting through.

Just as Ozpin had said, there’s very little set on the tables beside his desk. Compared to what you had been used to, looked to be hardly an hour’s worth of work.

Your fingertips leafed through a couple of the books before turning to glance at Ozpin. He was standing by the large window of his office, overlooking much of the campus as sunlight fell into the room. It hit him, that sunlight, in just the right way–he almost seemed to glow when he finally realized that you were looking–and those brown eyes caught the falling sunlight so perfectly that you were left frozen for a few moments.

Just…staring…at him…

You caught yourself with a sharp breath in, book pulled to your chest as you tried to brush off the awkward moment with laughter and a joke.

“I uh, guess I just expected more is all.”

Your eyes fell first to the floor, then down to the book in your arms. Despite trying to force your attention back to the pile of papers and books on the table, you couldn’t help but feel that Ozpin’s gaze was lingering on you. 

It made your stomach twist, but it  wasn’t impossible to curb the awkward feeling of butterflies with your duties–you practically tossed yourself into getting started, if only to forget that the air was still silent and tinged awkward from the moment before.

“I think it’s good,” Ozpin’s soft voice filled the room. He didn’t have to speak particularly loud for his words to carry, holding a sort of firm command that you’d expect from a man in such a powerful position. “You’ve been working hard since Glynda has been away, it’s only fair you have a break every now and then.”

The words were kind, but you couldn’t bring yourself to overcome the shyness enough to actually thank him for the thought. You simply kept to working over the books, settling them into their own piles to be further organized after you had gone through everything. A lot of teaching plans, hand-written notes and thensome, scattered between different series of books that you assumed had something to do with teaching theory and some higher academics that the professors must have used.

A minute passed and, eventually, you fell back into the soft, familiar headspace of busy-bee work. It wrapped around you like a blanket, helping you get through the tedious motions from one book to the next and opening a folder to take note of what was within, then find a temporary home for it.

In fact, you were so caught-up in your head that you hadn’t heard the footsteps behind you, nor the question in the air. It wasn’t until there was a hand on your shoulder that you realized Ozpin had been trying to get your attention. When he did, you practically jumped, quickly turning around and–

His face was so close.

His eyes looked into yours, soft and brown and deep with things you couldn’t begin to wrap your mind around. You caught such minute details of him as you stood there, breath held and body frozen in a confused, embarrassed heat. 

The way his glasses fell just a hair too low, falling down Ozpin’s nose. How his messy hair fell over his eyes, only mildly obscuring them from sight. How his lips looked soft, slightly parted with unspoken words behind them.

You couldn’t pull yourself away from the intimacy of the otherwise silent moment.

“…You’ve been acting odd the last couple days,” Ozpin whispered, words falling slowly from his lips (but he didn’t pull away). “Is…everything alright?”

“Yes!” The word burst from you like an explosion. “Absolutely, totally alright–I mean why would you ask that? Quite good.”

It was like some kind of defense mechanism, the spilling words making so little sense as you tried to take a step back–

–only to find you couldn’t. The table was directly behind you, halting the motion. It took only another heartbeat for you to realize how close it put you to Ozpin, how he looked at you, how you could just lean forward and…just…

…

…

You didn’t know what came over you. Impulse was a horrible beast, and it took the sharpest hold over your thoughts, your sense of direction and desire and forced it all to the forefront of your being. It was like seeing something shiny and yearning to grab it, catching sight of small animal and wanting to pet it, the urge to fall to the grass and stare up at the moonlit sky.

It could be called whatever you liked, but you didn’t stop yourself as your face moved, pressing forward just fast enough to press your lips to Ozpin’s.

It was only a peck, lasting barely half a breath before you felt the hard stone in your stomach, the realization coming back to your rebooted thoughts.

 _You kissed him_.

Your eyes blinked and your breathing started to quicken. Leaning back, surprise was obvious in the man’s eyes, blinking and looking at you with a look you couldn’t hope to decipher while dealing with the current situation.

You. Kissed. Ozpin.

What had felt so lovely quickly fell into cold fear. Words of apology fell from your lips like rushing water.

“I’m–I’m so sorry sir, that was horribly inappropriate–I don’t know what came over me I uh–I’ll just see myself out and come back later to finish the–the uh books–I’m so sorry for doing–”

You would have rambled more, tried to slip away and hurry out the doorway of the office back out to the hall. You would have done a million and a half things, but it all stopped cold for a second time when you felt lips upon yours again.

This time, it was Ozpin who leaned forward, Ozpin who kissed you, Ozpin whose hands reached up and gently pressed to either side of your face to hold you still. Though your heart hammered against your chest and blood rushed through your ears, you couldn’t help but lean into him.

“You’re not good at hiding your feelings,” the man murmured against your mouth. “Do you want this?”

Your breath caught, heart skipping a beat as you found the thought available to make the simple answer of a hurried ‘yes’. Just after the sound left your lips, Ozpin’s stole them again, just as soft and ginger as he had been before.

His hands moved as you settled against his body. So warm, so comforting–you could feel as his palms slid down your body, finally stopping at the top of your hips. He held you still, held you close, pressing your body against his with such a sweetness that it almost felt hard to breathe.

Though it felt like an eternity, the second kiss only lasted for several seconds. It was passionate, surprisingly so, and it absolutely took your breath away as Ozpin finally pulled his face away enough to that you could look at him properly.

Fire burned at your cheeks as harshly as the butterflies felt in your stomach, the sensations all so new and powerful that your thoughts were no more than scattered fragments to the wind. It took several long seconds to collect them, all spent gazing into the other’s dark eyes that never left your own.

“Ozpin, I–”

“If I wasn’t correct,” The man said, interrupting you with a slight hurry to his tone. As if he was trying to say it before you said something–before you might say something that would hurt. “If I….misinterpreted something, I deeply apologize for my rash actions.”

You blinked, biting at your lower lip as Ozpin’s eyes finally fell down and to the side; you’d never seen him, the headmaster of Beacon, look legitimately  _nervous_  before. It was a rather cute look on him, the pink on his pale cheeks so obvious and sweet.

“…If I didn’t….misinterpret…this relationship,” he continued, cautiously going over each word. “Then I would…like to make it known the feelings are more mutual than you might have assumed, dearest.”

You aren’t sure if it’s the confession or the petname that does it, but you feel your head spin with a feeling of sweet elation at the sound regardless. Is this what love felt like? The returned, sweet, innocent sort of love that you had dreamed and wondered so dearly for?

It was a feeling like none other, still held by Ozpin’s hands against the table behind you, his body so tall and warm against your own. 

A smile slowly worked its way over your lips and, after a few moments after, you regained your voice, if only as a whisper.

“I…like the way that sounds when you say it.”

“When I say what?” Ozpin questions in equal quietness.

The smile grows wider on your lips.

“When you call me ‘dearest’,” 

The feeling of joy in your chest is barely contained as a hand of yours reaches up to the man’s face, palm pressed against his warm cheek.

Ozpin looks at you, then presses his face into your touch.

“I guess I will have to call you that more often then,” he whispers. “My dearest.”


End file.
